


In the Dust of the Planets

by Christer_Bleu



Category: Barsoom - Edgar Rice Burroughs, Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sailor Moon, Silver Millennium Era, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-16 02:50:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8083828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Christer_Bleu/pseuds/Christer_Bleu
Summary: "This peace simply cannot last, how long do you really think Mars will remain complacent as their world continues to die around them? They came with Venus only because the promise that their world would be spared and instead they've been used as the High Queen's attack dog, if Mars rises the only people that can stop them will be the Union of Storms and it is unlikely that the Queen of Neptune will lift a finger to circumvent the annihilation of the Moon. If she does not move against the Martians the Union of Storms will not move against the Martians and yet at every turn you yield to that woman's demands without guaranteeing that she will hold to the promises she made."For only a moment she entertained the idea that her son had in some way been poisoned against her, the time he spent in the company of the young Neptunian Princess warping his perception of the Alliance that the High Queen had fostered over these long centuries but all the evidence was there. Queen Beryl had only been put down by the disobedience of the Martians, three legions descending to Earth in force slaughtering anything and everything in their path until Princess Serenity had married Prince Endymion cementing a peace.





	1. Iasius

**Author's Note:**

> This work draws influence from the Barsoom stories of Sir Edgar Rice Burroughs, you should definitely read the first story [here](https://www.amazon.com/Princess-Mars-Edgar-Rice-Burroughs/dp/1494996839>A%20Princess%20of%20Mars</a>,%20in%20fact%20you%20can%20listen%20to%20it%20for%20free%20on%20youtube%20<a%20href=) and get hooked on it. 
> 
> This story also draws influence from several stories including: [Once Upon A Time](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6592296/1/Once-Upon-A-Time) by LoneSkyeWolf and [](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7287180/1/Gardens-of-the-Moon>Gardens%20of%20the%20Moon</a>%20by%20KarmicRogue.%20You%20should%20read%20these%20too.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do we do when we're half depressed, hating life and have a HULU account? Watch Sailor Moon Crystal and think entirely too hard and this is the love child of those thoughts. In any case this story focuses more intensely on the children of the sailor senshi with the canon characters relegated mostly to the background. In any case here's the pronunciation guide because the names get kind of strange and most characters have multiple names and titles for various reasons.
> 
> Iasius (pronounced: **I A Z us** )
> 
> A-Sor (pronounced: **A Sore** )

To say that Martians were misunderstood was a gross over simplification of an issue that threatened the survival of a people that had lost all hope centuries before the Jovians had looked beyond the boundaries of their planetary system and found the outer alliance waiting patiently. That there was no choice but war, that conflict had raged over what few remaining sources of water existed, that Martians were long lived and bore fierce grudges for generations, was incomprehensible to the visitng ambassadors. Once more the Jovians opposed the effort to conquer or colonize Earth or the small worlds of the Kupier Belt and at their behest the Martians were denied. It seemed as if the High Queen would do nothing but stand by and use the Martian Armies as she wished and condemn them to their fate – to die along with their world though she had the power to save them all floating conveniently in the regalia of her station.

Without effort she knew Iasius’ mind, that the impassive face was the cold mask of the young general who had so ruthlessly succeeded where the Jovians had failed hid a monster in the making. Where the soft hearted Jovian Legion had been slaughtered to a man on Earth the Martians had restored order in the capital methodically executed what remained of Queen Beryl’s sympathizers. Used again and the Martians had received nothing. 

A coup dismantled.

A people subjugated.

A rebellion quelled.

An heir saved.

And with each of these acts they had strengthened the High Queen’s hold over the system as demanded receiving only scorn and distrust in return.Once more she lay eyes upon Iasius and saw, clearly, what was beneath – more than the general, more than the dwar, more than the mystic, more than the flesh and bone of the Marian, more than the face name of A-Sor. She saw all of the youth given up to Mars when it had become evident htat within the confines of mortal flesh was a soul kissed by the gods, an impossible flame that would never go out. Despite her hopes and wishes the brightest of her stars had been born red and there was nothing to be done for it. Her hear ached but she could afford to show Iasius no favor, show Mars no favor in this council despite her well known relationship with the young Dwar. 

Iasius understood, Iasius was the more understanding of her stars.

That brief touch, a bush of something comforting and incomprehensible at the edges of her mind that she associated with the communication that was the hallmark of Martians and Neptune; the board was changing. The dance of pieces whirling again and again, their movement seemingly irratic though purposeful. Finding out which pieces were in motion was al but impossible until the play had been fully revealed. Whom was in motion, whom was allied with whom could be a long and slow process of discerning through educated guesses and inferences.

Regardless of it all Iasius would play the cards close to the chest.

Iasius bowed gracefully before leaving the hall, a dark mark in all the pristine white and silver, as misunderstood as entrophy. Eyes too deep a blue to amethyst, that could only be the precious hue of corundum swept the room a final time with a frightening calm. It was unnerving, that expression on te face of a Martian, they face they wore to war, the face they killed with. 

Without ceremony Iasius left with the quiet dignity that none but Martians were capable of.


	2. Tarzeem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iasius (pronounced: **I A Z us** )
> 
> A-Sor (pronounced: **A Sore** )
> 
> Tarzeem (pronounced: **Tar Seem** )
> 
> Rahzeem (pronounced: **Raw Seem** ) .

It was often difficult to discern whether the young dwar was here as a diplomat or a visitor or rarely did A-Sor make it easy for Tarzeem, valet of the Venusian Imperial Family. Returning from a successful campaign on Earth the dwar had dutifully returned to Mars but had come promptly to Venus at the behest of the Empress. Liquid gold eyes took in the impressive figure of the Martian before him, the ornate black armor as functional as imposing, the terrible visage of the banth on the breast as mesmerizing as the near extinct beast was rumored to be.

If pressed, Tarzeem would be remiss to name a time he had seen the dwar without armor, the regal suit A-Sor wore would be traded for tooled leather at the earliest convenience and the Martian never took a slave for assistance despite the Empress’ insistence so none, not even the lowliest servant of the court, had seen A-Sor without arms and armor since the Martian had reached the age of maturity. But even as a youth A-Sor had always been thus –seemingly removed of emotion since it had become apparent that A-Sor was Martian and not Venusian, that had always been clear.

There was no need to lead A-Sor through the summer palace, the Martian knew more of the labyrinthean halls and chambers than Tarzeem, who had only recently taken up his father’s duties when Rahzeem had grown too old and frail to serve in this capacity. The summer palace was traditionally home to the first born child of the imperial line and her children; the heir apparent to the empire safely removed from the heart of the empire and any attack there, and was not A-Sor the favored child of the crown pricness? Had not A-Sor been born and raised here?

Ah, but the house staff remembered, bowing graciously as the Martian passed and urging the nude slaves upon their knees to do the same under threat of cleverly wielded leather straps. Briskly the pair passed through hall afterhall, through numerous chambers until, at last, they arrived at the carved marble doors which lead to the princess’ inner garden. A-Sor did not break stride, passing through the gilded doors with the air of someone who knew wehre they were supposed to be and would not be delayed or swayed from that task.

He stopped, forbidden to enter the gardens at the heart of the palace, the sacred retreat of the imperial family tended to by the crown princess and her young was one of the great mysteries of Venus. A vault of unimaginable beauty said to be unmatched by any other garden, even those of the other palaces littering the surface of the planet. The ancient magic accepted A-Sor’s touch, what lay beyond shrouded from Tarzeem by a blackness as thick as the void itself. In truth A-Sor matched that blackness more than the gilded doors, the tallest of the imperial bloodline in generations standing head and shoulders over the crown princess in gleaming black armor.

Slender and lean with arms thickened by a century and more of swinging a sword with the broad shoulders to match in all ways, physically, A-Sor was Venusian. Once A-Sor had worn blonde hair long when it had become apparent Martian blood had won over Venusian the youth had fully embraced the culture of the red planet and shorn it close about the sides and back leaving the top long enough to brush the nape of the neck when freed of the intricately braided top knot. Perhaps those eyes could be mistaken as purely Martian but the blood of Mars and Venus had been mingled since the days before Throxeus had receded into the Great Salt Marshes.

Unable to keep that thought from his face Tarzeem bowed low as A-Sor became one with that darkness.


	3. Iasius

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iasius (pronounced: **I A Z us** ) 
> 
> A-Sor (pronounced: **A Sore** )

To kneel before the flame was a religious experience of a sort though one would be hard pressed to describe a Martian religion or to classify Martians as particularly religious. One might mention human sacrifice or war as the hallmark of a Martian religion but Martians were a people without organized religion, instead Martians were possessed of strong spirituality and rigid philosophical doctrines and mandates that dictated every action performed daily as well as on the battlefield. What most had in common was a strong connection to flame and fire though once some had claimed such a connection to earth, water and wind before the great Martian oceans had dried up and the world began to die.

Now there was only flame, flame and vitality and all that was life.

Not just any flame would do, a bonfire fueled by an external source held as much significance to a Martian as a source of heat could which, among a race that either did not or could not feel cold. All attempts made by Mercurian alchemists and scientists had been unable to ascertain the function or method that allowed Martians to bathe in flame unharmed, withstand extreme temperatures and command flame. What made this yawning inferno different was unknown to any but the keepers of the sacred flame.

The flame was a tool for meditation as chanting was a tool for meditation, something into which focus was channeled for those who could not channel their focus.

Her chieftain had lit the fire at the heart of the garden, the flame was intensely bright casting brilliant iridescent shadows upon the grounds though it shed no heat. That she was here surprised no one, that Iasius had found her here was no surprise. This had been the place that Iasius had found her as a child, the place that she could find both Iasius and her chieftain on the long nights when neither could rest easily in the palatial suites. Martians were not simple souls though those who served in their naval fleets or armies kept their apartments Spartan save the luxurious sleeping furs and silks.

“Maman.” The voice was soft, cultured and uncolored by the husky tones strongly associated with Martians speaking any language but their own.

“My star.” Not as broad as her chieftain nor as tall there was a strength in Iasius held away from the warm embrace, vanadium fired of all impurities alloyed with titanium or aluminium inside which blazed an undying fire banked low with affection. There was a warmth there but not the near scalding sensations she forever associated with her chieftain.

“Are you here as A-Sor, dwar of Gathol or Eros IX, Iasius of the Imperial Venusian Bloodline.”though the decadence and overt sexuality had always made Iasius uncomfortable, yet the words emblazoned in the fuller of the long sword worn proudly on Iasius’ right hip bore the family words.

She gave her star a broad smile. “Welcome home, then, Iasius.” Her third born flushed, bowing slightly despite the informal greeting, offering her a right arm beneath black leather bracers studded with silver rings fashioned in the image of fangs. Graciously she took the young dwar’s arm though the Martian allowed her to lead them from the gardens to the apartments set aside for his use.


	4. Iasius

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iasius (pronounced: **I A Z us** ) 
> 
> A-Sor (pronounced: **A-Sore** )
> 
> Oenone (pronounced: **I - On - E** )
> 
> Onas Varro (pronounced: **On-As Var-O** )
> 
> Maraxian (pronounced: **Mar-Axe-ian** )
> 
> Maraxus (pronounced: **Mar-Axe-us** )

To the house staff of the Summer Palace the striking image of the Martian Dwar wandering through the halls in black leather, long sword riding easily upon the right hip, cradling the young princess in strong arms was not unusual. To the visiting nobility the sight was enough to incite alarmed gasps, one young Lord going as far as to call for guards believing that somehow an enemy of the crown had entered the palace intending to steal away the young princess at the leisurely pace parents used to soothe a child back to sleep. Because when one applied logic a large man in black leather armed to the teeth walking around like they were supposed to be there was the perfect infiltration technique.

The sound smack upon the back of the head the Lordling received from his exasperated father sent the boy reeling, knees buckling under the force, “Know you not Eros on sight?”

Unable to contain himself at the sight of not only a young lord seemingly about to lose consciousness from the thought of the fifth in line to the throne being kidnapped before being nearly topped by his father Iasius barked out a harsh laugh. Eros was yet another name but unlike A-Sor, a suitably Martian name from the Epics of millennia past granted to Iasius after his decade wandering the red planet as a panthan under the guise of Rei, Eros was as much a title as a given name. True, A-Sor was a title as well, and Rei the collection of the first letters of the hieroglyphics which denoted a young panthan when translated into the Lunarian Standard. Eros was as true to the dwar as Iasius. 

As the first born male offspring of Empress Aphrodite XCIX Iasius was entitled to the name Eros unless Empress Aphrodite XCIX had a son before vacating the throne which was unlikely. Their line was notorious for producing daughters and even with the generous baby gaps of the long lived it had been the better part of a millennia since the Empress had her last child, with so many grandchildren to dote upon there would be no more of the first generation. Iasius’ mother would become Aphrodite C and he would remain Eros XI, his younger cousin Laton would inherit the title Eros X when reaching his maturity.

Readjusting Oenone in his arms Iasius turned to take in the young noble Lord who would have him arrested though the prompt response from Onas Varro, Captain of the Summer Palace Guard, was gladdening though the look on the noble’s face was amusing. The young Maraxian Lordling had not expecting to see a single Martian in the Summer Palace, let alone the fact that the guards would all be Martians come with the Princess’ Mate to Venus. “M’Lord, Eros?”

The response was crisp, without hesitation he had assessed the situation, were Iasius to have been addressed as A-Sor, Dwar of Gathol, Iasius would not have been seen all day carrying about the young princess. Entertaining her with the stories of his trips off world including the highly romanticized Earth, Mighty Venus’ twin world, carefully sanitized of the violence he had personally inflicted on those who called that world home. Iasius wouldn’t have removed his armor in favor of finely tooled leather engraved with the crest of the Imperial Venusian line, wouldn’t still be walking around with the slumbering toddler to ease her through the night terrors so common among Venusian young as well as cull his own restlessness.

”Captain, a case of mistaken identity. I gave the young Lord Maraxus the fright of his life when he rounded the corner.” From a race that put stock in the words of a talking feline such things were to be expected. The source of everyone’s problems.

That wasn’t to say that he held no love for Artemis but the were-cat was a were-cat and nothing that hailed from the moon spelled anything but disaster. His sire had told him of their terrible decision, to seal away an enemy only to allow that great resentment to fester.


	5. The Princess

It was something of a gift, a favor done as proof of allegiance, an act of devotion to a superior power – the removal of a dangerous weapon. The crushed velvet lining caressed the melon sized fruit inside the lead lined box, the fruit untouched since it had been hidden since it had been removed from the sanctuary. A thorough inspection yielded no evidence as to how it was removed or what the thief’s intention was when they stole it. Who stole it was no great mystery, they had allowed it to be stolen as a test, who could be trusted and who couldn’t.

Call it cynical on her part but the absolutely certainty that the Moon Kingdom could not be trusted was to be expected. Among the young Kingdoms of the inner planets power was to be coveted, collected, and fought over – the older cultures of the outer planets were indifferent to power. The clear division between the two startling when viewed objectively, the easy acceptance of this alliance a curiosity of a single generation shared by their offspring. But her eye was drawn to something else, an ancient and noble people facing not just the end of everything they had ever known but extinction.

And so she had extended a hand, an offer no other would accept so readily. An exchange of goods for labor, the cultivation of a relationship, a deal struck in good faith. After all, Neptune’s wealth was beyond measure with no true equal, the combined grace of many worlds beholden to one divine motherland. It was all so much as to be meaningless, a fact so obvious as to not be mentioned even in passing, an indifference to politics and the power long ago acquired and lovingly maintained. Individual cultural identities not removed but blended so seamlessly that the origin of any given tradition could not be identified.

All was Neptune and all things Neptunian.

These were lessons that few other cultures understood or adopted, few lived long enough or had the foresight. The others, the Union of Storms, were also long lived, they understood and saw reason. These new allies would understand, understood this to some extent and offered up a gift, one suggested by Aphrodite XCIX. A wise woman even if she meddled but her meddling served a higher purpose. That purpose was close by staring incredulously at her from across the marble floor of her office, the distance between them the length of the heavy dark purple wood of the desk.

“You realize that the surface of Neptune is naught but water, correct?” Neptune, the Motherland proper was over 98% water but drinking it would prove toxic to anyone who dared to drink it. Triton was all fresh water lacking active plate tectonics to encourage seismological activity. A strange place Triton was uninhabitable for any significant length of time, true Neptunians stand the lack of salinity for extended periods of time, the sheer among of water and length of the day made it unsuitable for habitation. No plants would grow, no man could live their circadian rhythm tricked into uselessness.

A steady supply of fresh water in exchange for – ah – he did not know what this was but was soldier enough, Martian enough, to not ask. But he was curious, years of experience among the Lunarian nobility had taught him to mask any emotional response or facial expressions as thoroughly his tenure on Mars as a rifleman. But he was not Venusian, he had no defense against her, she was Neptunian and nothing could hide from the affinity. 

“That which you have retrieved is priceless beyond measure,” that everyone that had known about the object, the fruit was no dead save the two of them was testament to that, “The crown is indebted to you and such a gift is meant to be passed along.”

In exchange for another service of equal import that went without saying, political maneuvering was a skill not unfamiliar to him but this might be. “So, this small token is not the total sum of the reward?”

A successful endeavor to teach that which few learn, the power to wield planetary interactions indirectly. Oh the things she would show him. “This is a gift for Mars, gratitude for training such skillful warrior.”


	6. Lexius

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lexius (pronounced: **Lex-ius** )
> 
> Azul (pronounced: **A-zuul** )

The Neptunian Princess was a unique threat to universal stability in the local system and would only gain more political power in the coming centuries though how much no one could be sure. Enough to challenge the future legitimacy of the Silver Millennium through the weight of her presence and alliances she personally would forge in the next two thousand years before ascending the throne, she could not be called to the High Queen’s service nor leave Neptune or the home worlds of her allies as described by the charter five generations old – Uranus, Saturn, Pluto, Jupiter or Venus. As the fifth to the Uranian throne the charter was tweaked but equally valid limiting her to Uranus, Neptune, and Jupiter.

The Moon Kingdom did not know her, had no hold over her actions, and would not be allowed direct foreign oversight until her grandmother vacated the throne. Retrieving the old sea chest was a favor, a command of sorts given to a suitor looking to gain her favor which he willingly obeyed. Just what was inside was anyone’s guess and of no consequence to him either way. The dance was an elaborate charade, the Princess had made her decisions long ago as to who she would give her heart too.

These was no prestige, no influence to be won for without affinity one could not rule Neptune and only one line produced an affinity bond of sufficient strength. All there was to be had was love affection, a bottomless well of passion and touch of water. That was the true power of Neptune, why great artists called this place home, called Neptune lover, she was his muse and that which inflamed, inspired rose with passion and could not be controlled.

All suitors had their purpose but Lexius had her heart and had possessed a fragment of it since they were children. Sure, he would be forced to share but she was his alone for now, a thought both daunting and glorious.

She lay curled against him like a happy cat burrowing in for warmth and security unabashed by the openness of her balcony. The young Princess did not preside within the Triton Palace, the elaborate structure matched the Venusian Imperial City in its splendor but was above all else a government building housing only visiting delegates. Only Uranians could live on Neptune freely and access to the Azul, true home of the royal family, was guarded with near religious fanaticism. At times her own sire denied access or required to be attended always by a quartet of guards.

How anyone could hope to gain access to the Azul without permission was unknown, the leviathans guarded the entrance jealously an could not be reasoned with. They saw all and spoke only through the affinity, nothing could be hidden from affinity. The sanctuary itself was a thing of powerful magic the nature of which was unknown, it was the very depths of the sea but access was as easy as thoughts.

All around them was water, clear and bright as day with moons and sun but also dense, any swift movement was impossible each second stretched excruciatingly taunt as one tried. All around the leviathans addled lazily like birds on thermals, magnificently colored scales casting a rainbow of opalescent light around the milky white crystal of the superstructure at the heart of the Azul.

Beyond the clear waters the inky blackness of the depths surrounded them, above a rich velvet blue, the leviathans moving with ease through it all. Neptunians too were capable of this feat, swimming through the Azul as well as walking, capable of breaching the barriers protecting the palace as easily as walking through a doorway. Through the affinity he knew true sea water could fill the whole of the Azul, rising from bottom to top as one would fill a cup as it occupied the reality in which Neptune resided at the bottom of the sea though he would never see it. Any who could see her bare body resting against his on the chaise lounge would not care, some aspect of their vision disseminated through the affinity to them all, her satisfaction clear to all through the faint pulsation of ‘sunlight’ on the white limestone walls.

He wanted to ask if the other had been here yet, if this was for the time being his alone but the Azul gave him his answer. The Azul responded only to the will of the royal family subconsciously, Lexius had noticed subtle changes when their relationship had changed and no significant changes had occurred in the ambient.

She wouldn’t understand this, his jealousy was unreasonable and illogical to a people utterly incapable of emotional misunderstanding. The affinity meant that there was no misunderstanding, no jealousy though perhaps that could be attributed to the lack of traditional morality. The concept of monogamy wasn’t one that came naturally to Neptunians, a view that Venusians shared, the heart wanted what the heart wanted and only a fool denied it. Like Venusians Neptunians were fiercely loyal to a given partner, perhaps it was an even trade.

The affinity.

You couldn’t lie about the affinity, couldn’t lie through the affinity, it was all that you were at all times. He couldn’t broadcast but he could feel the truth of it, his mixed heritage giving him a certain sensitivity to the affinity. It changed the world when she’d awoken that within him, the intrinsic changes to it all… but the other… all in such a way that she was not aware of. The Azul was proof of that, very few things changed when the other had arrived ultimately being the result of distress.

About them the Azul flickered brightly, brilliantly as she slept on peacefully in the only place that the Neptunains could rest in truth – the Azul opened to all that was Neptune. The only home, the only place that soothed.


End file.
